Page 72 of Tower

“She has Azalea.” Peter ground the sentence out. He was fucking sick of the games played by the families. All the formalities and bullshit. If one fucking hair was bent out of shape on Azalea’s head when he found her, every one of the fuckers would pay.

“I’ll get the information you need.” Hunter pulled out his phone.

“I’m going with you when you find her,” Damien said, sitting down in the chair and pressing his hands into his knees.

Peter nodded. He would need good men to go with him. It was doubtful Bellatrix would welcome them with open arms.

Hunter stepped out of the room with his phone pressed against his ear.

“Did you find anything else in my uncle’s ledgers?” Peter asked Daniel.

“Nothing that made sense or was worth anything. He dealt with Bellatrix later, buying girls from her every once in a while. Mostly, he sold to her.”

“If she hurts Azalea—”

“She won’t.” Hunter stepped inside the room again. “She can’t hurt her.”

“Why?” Damien asked.

“Because she’s selling her. There’s an auction for her tonight.”

Chapter 23

With a less groggy head but still confused mind, Azalea was led up to a dressing room. She didn’t know how long she’d slept. She only knew she was being primped in order to be pimped.

“Only a little makeup. Her innocence is where her beauty lies.” Her mother floated into the cramped room. The woman holding the curling iron in one hand and a large amount of Azalea’s hair in the other nodded.

“Of course, madame,” she said. “Any coloring on her lips? They are full. Men will like to see them.”

Bellatrix tapped her chin while inspecting Azalea, making her feel more like a prized ham than her daughter. “Yes. I think you’re right. They will definitely like them.”

“Mother.” Azalea tried again to reason with her. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to get away from Peter. I’m sorry I wasn’t home when you got back, but you can’t just—you won’t, will you? Sell me?”

Bellatrix’s cold stare sent shivers through Azalea.

“Azalea, you aren’t my daughter. Not by blood. Not by anything. You were revenge, and now that you’ve served that purpose, it’s time for you to go away.” It was her mother’s voice. Soft and purposeful like usual, but the words—so callous—so cold.

“I’m not your daughter?” Peter had warned her, had told her, but she had rejected the idea.

“I took you—from a man who thought he could discard me so easily. He loved his wife, and cast me aside—but it was also because of you. It was you he loved so much. And you made that silver-haired witch so damn happy when you were born. When he cast me out, I bided my time, but then I came for you.”

“You kidnapped me?” Azalea’s disbelief put her into action, and she started to rise from the chair. With a quick shove, the hairdresser pushed her back.

“Stay down, or I’ll strap you there,” the woman threatened, shaking the hot iron at her.

“I needed you to stay hidden, away from prying eyes. I went into business on my own and have made quite a success of it. You’ll be my biggest profit this quarter, though. Which is fitting, given how much money you’ve cost me over the years.”

Azalea’s heart clenched. She’d been kidnapped. And, now, she was being sold. To who? What man would buy another human being?

Not a kind one, of that she was sure.

“Ah, there we go. She’s finally understanding.” Bellatrix patted her cheek.

Azalea slapped her hand away and glared up at her.

“I will not be sold.” Peter would get there. He wouldn’t allow this to happen. He’d been trying to warn her about her mother. He knew—in how much detail, she wasn’t sure, but he knew Bellatrix was bad news. He wouldn’t let this happen. No one was buying her tonight.

“You raise your voice and then your hand to me?” Bellatrix’s eyes narrowed, her lips thinned, and her nostrils flared.

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